The leaves of that wise tree in your grandmother’s backyard, the one that ate up your shadow while you stole its mangoes. The eyes of the puppy that you wanted to bring home, the one who didn’t care you will never own a house as big as your heart. The sleeping pill that swallows your fears every night, and replaces them with forgotten dreams in your eyes. The lump in your throat that knows the exact weight of your tears, like your closest friend never will. The sheet of rain that runs down your body to deliver your scent to the earth you walk on. The scar on your skin that hides timidly, yet hopes a lover will come seek it. Stop and get to know all of these, every now and then. Because if some day, someone asks you who you really are, maybe this is where you should return to looking for answers.


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